Middle of Nowhere
by PlasticCandy
Summary: <html><head></head>The team reaches the CDC, but things never go as planned, do they? Another straggler joins the team.</html>
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Middle of Nowhere**  
>Author:<strong> PlasticCandy**  
>Fandom:<strong> The Walking Dead**  
>Rating: <strong>Mature readers**  
>Warnings:<strong> violence, language, possible sexual situations**  
>Summary:<strong> The team reaches the CDC, but things never go as planned, do they? Another straggler joins the team.**  
>Notes:<strong> A few things bugged me when they got to this part, and I'm pretty sure I made it evident in the first chapter.**  
>Disclaimer:<strong> The Walking Dead and its characters don't belong to me. They belong to their rightful owners.

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><p><strong>Installment 1<strong> - In Which They Find Amanda

The CDC is quiet. It's peaceful, and it rings in their ears, the same as a rock show. They're in, the doors are closing behind them, and then there's the cocking of a slide-action shot gun. Jenner has a gun pointed at them, the guests, and in return he has at least six weapons pointed back at him.

To his credit, he doesn't even flinch.

Amanda drops to the floor opposite him, jumping off a landing that leads to the second floor. She is un-armed, but that doesn't seem to matter when a few of those guns swing her way. She holds her hands up, takes a step forward.

"You want to live, you won't move."

This from the guy with the crossbow trained on her. She does a quick double-take, makes sure it really is a crossbow and that she isn't dreaming, and takes a deep breath.

She waits, impatient, as Jenner questions them. One of the group, a tall skinny man in a cop uniform, answers for them, and Jenner agrees to let them stay on the condition they submit to a blood test. Amanda sighs, turns away even though that crossbow is still trained on her and every instinct in her gut is telling her not to face away from him.

She takes the elevator down and waits, impatient, in the kitchen for everyone. She knows Jenner will feed them once he takes their blood, and the lab is right down the hall.

There's a loud commotion, and she sighs, turns to the stove and starts cooking.

Things just keep getting better and better.

Amanda paces frantically in front of the stove as people trickle in one by one. The blonde is first, held up by another woman. They settle into some chairs.

"Smells good."

"I try."

Amanda sets a pan back on the stove, flips the meat in it and checks it.

"What's for dinner?"

Amanda ignores them as they come in, sliding into chairs and breaking open a few bottles of wine. Someone finds a bottle of whiskey somewhere, and then there's the beer. She has a bad feeling about tonight.

She finishes dinner and sets out plates and silverware, then makes herself scarce. The mixing of men and alcohol always makes her a little shakey, and there's more than enough of both to make her more than uncomfortable.

On her way out, Jenner passes her, and he motions for her to follow him. She sighs, doubles back into the kitchen, where everyone's busy getting food and feeding their faces. She watches, patiently, as everyone eats their fill. Twice, she has to cook again to make sure no one leaves the table hungry.

She sits back, finally, as they finish scraping their plates. There's a quiet murmur of thanks in her general direction, and she shrugs them off.

Then there's the dark-haired one, who looks like he might be a firefighter or something except the emblem on his shirt says he's a cop. She looks at the skinny guy and pegs him for a cop, too, since he's wearing the uniform. Amanda busies herself figuring everyone out, and while she does that, she listens to the toast given by the skinny one. Then the questioning starts, mostly about why this place is empty.

Amanda doesn't tell them about the work she had to do, hours after she had arrived, hauling the dead bodies out of the building before Jenner sealed the doors.

Finally, Jenner shows them to the living quarters, or what passes for them, and she sets to doing the dishes. There's a distinct lack of hot water that tells her that everyone possible is taking a shower, and she sighs, shuts the water off and dries her hands.

"Hey."

She turns, startled. She sees a pair of jeans and a shirt, bare feet, but no head. Whoever it is, he's digging around in the freezer for something.

"Help you?" she asks, folding her arms across her chest and leaning back against the counter.

He looks around the freezer door at her, and she blinks.

"Well, if it isn't Mr. Crossbow."

He smiles then, one corner of his mouth turning up in what Amanda thinks might be a friendly gesture, holds up a second bottle of whiskey.

"I got it." He closes the freezer door and turns to walk away, then stops. "You don't say much, do you?"

She cocks her head to the side. "When I need to." She sighs, pushes away from the counter. "I'm Amanda."

"Daryl." He holds out his hand, and she shakes it quickly. The smirk on his face isn't lessening her apprehension about that bottle in his hand. "Where you from?"

"All over."

He raises an eyebrow, and she sighs. "Middle of nowhere. My daddy was rich, we lived in a mansion."

He looks around. "Why are you here?"

"I'm military. Or, I was. I got here just before the doors sealed. Been stuck here with my brother-in-law ever since."

"Jenner?"

"He married my sister."

Daryl nods, looks down the hallway. "How long?"

"Too long." She offers a smile, gets up to test the water again. It's hot, so she starts on the dishes.

There's silence behind her, and she turns to find the kitchen empty.

She's just finishing the dishes when there are footsteps behind her, and she turns, her hand tugging her knife out of its pouch on her hip in one fluid movement. She lowers it as the dark-haired woman, she thinks they called her Lori, comes in and offers to help.

"I got it. Thanks, though." Amanda smiles, slides the knife back in its carrier. "Everyone showered?"

Lori nods. "Yeah." She smiles, gets a cup from the shelf and pours herself a glass of soda. "Jenner hasn't explained anything yet."

"He will." Amanda looks down. "We haven't had any interaction with anyone in a while. It'll take some getting used to."

"Are you two..." Lori trails off, not sure how to finish. She blushes.

"No. Jenner's my brother-in-law." Amanda shrugs, sits down across from her. "He married my sister."

Amanda feels strange, having to explain this to anyone, let alone repeat it. She fidgets nervously, twisting the hem of her shirt with her fingers until Lori sets her empty cup on the table.

"You should get some sleep," she says finally. "I know you're all probably really tired."

"Really tired doesn't even cut it," Lori agrees, and she washes her cup and goes to bed.

Amanda sighs, slides off her shoes and kicks them in the corner. She's going to be working all night, she knows, and she'll be much more comfortable without her shoes. She pads into the computer room, what Jenner calls the Big Room, and settles in at a computer for the night.

She is startled awake by Jenner's voice floating down the hall behind her, and she sits up, rubbing her neck. She mutters a few curse words at the screen, even though it can't answer her. She glances at the clock in the corner.

Four hours lost in sleep. She sighs, leans back in her chair and proceeds to try to work the knots and kinks out of her neck while Jenner leads the group into the Big Room. She sits, silent, at a computer near the back of the room as they file in, and Jenner pulls up the video of TS-19. She cringes.

Close to the center of the room, Cop One (Amanda thinks his name is Shane but she can't be all that sure) asks about the lights, and Amanda waits for Jenner to do his layman's terms explanation of synapses in the brain.

"It's a person's life-experiences, memories. It's everything. Somewhere in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light, is you. The thing that makes you unique and human."

"You don't make sense ever?" Amanda turns to see Daryl standing behind her.

"Those are synapses, electric impuses in the brain-"

"Shut up, Jenner. I got this." Amanda takes center stage, nudges Jenner out of the way and watches the screen.

"The 'lights' as you call them are electricity. That's how your brain talks to itself, to the rest of your body."

"Vi, scan forward to the first event." Jenner tries to take more control, but Amanda narrows her eyes at him.

"Scanning to first event." Amanda shudders at the sound of that electronic voice.

"It invades the brain like meningitis. The adrenal glands hemmorage, the brain goes into shut-down, then the major organs. Then death."

"Didn't I say shut up?" Amanda crosses her arms and looks at Jenner. "The adrenal glands aren't in your brain, dumbass." She steps in front of Jenner. "It invades your brain, shuts it down. It essentially over-stimulates a lot of the glands in the brain, including the Pineal gland-the one that monitors your sleep cycle. It shuts down your organs and makes you sleep."

She pauses, waits. "Vi, scan forward to the second event, please."

"Scanning to second event."

"The resurrection timese vary wildly. We've had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we've heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient it was two hours, one minute, seven seconds."

Amanda faces the screen so no one can see the tears rolling down her face.

"It restarts the brain?"

"No, just the brain stem."

"It activates more than that. Motor functions work well enough for movement, the sense of smell..." Amanda takes a deep breath.

"Yeah, we know about that one."

"Vision is available for a short time, but after a while the eyes begin to..." She hesitates. "Deteriorate. Decay. The flesh isn't living-just the brain." She watches the screen as the red light continues to pulse at the center of the brain, sending out shocks every now and then.

"Basically, it gets them up and moving."

"But they're not alive."

"You tell me."

"It's nothing like before. Most of that brain is dark."

"Dark. Lifeless. Dead. The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part, that doesn't come back. The you part. Just a shell."

Amanda has a hard time watching the next part, and she turns away from the screen and lets Jenner field a few questions about potential causes, communications, whether there's anyone else doing research.

"Man, I'ma get shit-faced drunk, again." Amanda watches Daryl walk away, rubbing his eyes.

"Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question, but that clock. It's counting down. What happens at zero?"

"The basement generators run out of fuel."

"And then?"

"Oh, you don't want to know that," Amanda says, and a few heads swivel towards her.

"Why?"

Lori sees Amanda's face has gone pale, and she shakes her head at Rick.

"Vi, what happens when the power runs out?"

Vi answers. Facility-wide decontamination.

"What does that mean?" Rick looks at Jenner, then at her. Amanda can't hold his gaze and she looks down, tears in her eyes. "What does that mean?"

Amanda watches Jenner walk away, and she sighs and follows him.

"What the fuck is your problem?" She grabs his arm, spins him towards her. "They deserve an answer. They have less than an hour to get out, and you're not answering their questions and you're _not helping_."

"They shouldn't have come here."

"But they did." Amanda is fed up with Jenner's issues. "You lost a wife, I get that. But for fuck's sake, Jenner, she was my sister. _My_ sister. Stop running away from your problems and face them."

"I did." He's in her face now. "I'm the one that killed her, or have you forgotten that?"

"And then you cut her open and used her for science." She smacks him, pushes him back to get him away from her. "Did you ever care for her, Edwin? Did you? Or did you just want to be close to her for advancement? Because she was smarter than you, better than you?"

She doesn't know what's happening until it's too late, and she holds her hand to her face and stares at him, more surprised that he got the jump on her than from pain.

"They deserve an explanation, Jenner. A chance. We don't have that, but they do."

She walks away, leaving him to explain everything as the power starts shutting down, and then she feels the air cut off, hears the motors stop spinning. She sighs, doesn't know what to do.

They're gathering in the Big Room again, following Jenner and badgering him with questions. She can hear it from where she's standing. She heads to the kitchen, tugs her boots on and laces them up.

"Open the fucking door!"

Amanda can hear them, but when she heads to the Big Room to see what's going on, she realizes she's locked out. There's thudding coming from the other side, the scrape of metal on metal. She pounds on the door from the other side.

"Jenner, open this fucking door right now, or so help me, I will beat the shit out of you!"

Her palms are stinging from slapping the cold metal, but she doesn't care.

It takes a few minutes, but the doors finally slide open and she stumbles back, almost falls. Daryl grabs her arm and steadies her as he yells back to the others, and she's leading them out to the front room.

She searches her pockets for her security key, realizes it's in her office upstairs. She rushes up the stairs, takes them two at a time as everyone floods the lobby, and she hears the thudding of the axes on the heavy-duty plexiglass. She grabs the key from her desk, runs back down in time to see the woman with the short hair, Carol she thinks wildly, hand a grenade to Rick.

"Hey! Don't set that off in here!"

"We don't have a choice-"

"You'll have more deaths than will be helpful if you set off a frag grenade in here. Are you fucking stupid?" She shoves Rick out of her way, slides her key through the key pad on the door and punches in a number, then another set of numbers. The doors slide open.

"Out, now!"

She is busy ushering everyone else out, not paying attention to the time. Dale and Andrea come running from the big room at the last possible second, and Amanda holds the doors open for them before running out herself.

She glances back once, twice, then shoves Dale and Andrea behind a stack of sandbags just as the building explodes. She doesn't have time to hide herself, and she is picked up by the ensuing shockwave and slammed against the side of the RV.

She groans. "Shit."

She hears the door to the RV open, and someone above her yelling to "Get in!"

She watches Andrea and Dale climb the steps, and she's trying to follow, struggling, then arms are pulling her up and guiding her to the nearest available vehicle, the pick-up truck. She groans again, tries to get her feet under her so he's at least not dragging her.

"Get in," he says, and she opens the door with fumbling, bloody hands, and slides into the truck just as the caravan pulls out. She slams the door as the truck starts moving.

"You are one dumb bitch, you know that?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Middle of Nowhere**  
>Author:<strong> PlasticCandy**  
>Fandom:<strong> The Walking Dead**  
>Rating: <strong>Mature readers**  
>Warnings:<strong> violence, language, possible sexual situations**  
>Summary:<strong> The team reaches the CDC, but things never go as planned, do they? Another straggler joins the team.**  
>Notes:<strong> A few things bugged me when they got to this part in the series, and I'm pretty sure I made it evident in the first chapter. Long chapter this time. Replies to reviews are at the bottom of the chapter.**  
>Disclaimer:<strong> The Walking Dead and its characters don't belong to me. They belong to their rightful owners

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><p><strong>Installment 2<strong> - In which Amanda arrives home

Amanda is curled against the door of the truck, trying to keep her distance from Daryl while at the same time trying to keep the center of her back from touching anything. So far she's not having a lot of luck. Every bump they hit she feels deep in her bones, and she wonders if she hasn't broken anything.

She struggles to stay awake. On top of her injuries to her back, arms, and legs, she probably has a concussion, and she knows the first rule of Concussion 101: don't fall asleep.

It seems like forever until they stop, pulled over on the side of the road with the map spread out over the hood of the RV. Shane (Amanda cheers herself for remembering names) is pointing at something furiously, jabbing his finger against the map so hard she wonders why he hasn't broken it or at least jammed it. Rick is arguing with him in a way that Amanda will soon realize is how he always is: calm, rational. The older man, Dale, is standing between them, mediating.

Amanda approaches, gently tapping Dale's shoulder. When he turns, she motions towards the map, and he steps aside. She leans over the map, trying to determine where they are with nothing but trees surrounding them.

"Where the hell are we?"

Rick points at the map, giving her a general area. She searches for a few more minutes, then says, "What's the problem?"

"We don't have enough fuel to get to Fort Benning, and we can't decide where to stop for the night."

"We stop here." Shane jabs at the map again, and Amanda leans sideways to avoid his hand. "It's the only safe place-"

"Safe if you want to be in the middle of nowhere with no supplies." Amanda brushes his hand away and examines the map again, then looks at the sky towards the sun.

"We can go here." She jabs at a spot, just off I-85, that looks like its in the middle of nowhere.

"What's there?"

"My house."

She doesn't miss the glances that Shane and Rick exchange, and she sighs. "Okay, look. It's huge. Something like nine bedrooms, and quite a few bathrooms, too. It's a mansion, it's gated, it's walled, and it's safe. No trees on property, there's access to a lake and a stream, and it's perfectly convenient. Can we make it there?"

Rick and Shane lean over and examine where she's pointing. She can practically see the gears turning in their heads, and she steps back and allows them to do the mental calculations to see if they have enough fuel to get there.

"I think it's a good idea." Rick nods, tapping his chin. "Anything else around."

"Small little town here," she approaches and points at the map again, not far from where she'd pointed for her house. "We're talking, one road, two stop-lights, maybe a couple of stop signs. It's where my folks went for post and groceries."

"Seriously? They still have places like that?"

Glenn, that little Asian that had a massive hangover at breakfast this morning, seems to have gotten over said hangover, and he's peeking over Amanda's shoulder.

"Yes, City Boy. They have places like that." Amanda is feeling more relaxed, despite the pain she feels in her back. She makes a mental note to take a long shower if the plumbing still works at her house.

"Who's to say that it hasn't been overrun with looters? Or that someone's broken in-"

"My daddy wouldn't give up that house unless he was dead." Amanda doesn't want to think about this, but she says it anyway. "If that's the case, well, then it's my house and I want it back."

Rick sighs, glances at Shane. "Yes?"

"It's a big risk, Rick. The kids-"

"If we put the kids in the furthest vehicle, with T-Dog, Lori, and Carol, I think it'll be okay." Rick is begging for Shane to listen to him without being such a pain in the ass and arguing over every little detail.

"Look, if my daddy's still alive, there's food, shelter in it for all of you. Beds, too."

Shane looks like he's going to give in, then he sighs and crosses his arms. "Alright."

Rick gathers everyone, and Amanda wanders away while he explains where they're going and what they're doing. Someone has to keep watch, she thinks, clamboring onto the roof of the RV. She stretches out, enjoying the heat of the sun on her back, enjoying the greenhouse effect her jacket seems to be doing. It's relaxing for her, and she struggles to stay awake in the warm Georgia sun.

There's nothing coming for miles, either down the road or from the woods, and she sits up and kneels to get a better perspective and to be able to move quicker if she needs to. She doesn't have her weapons, in particular her sniper rifle, so the prone position does her no good anyway, she reasons.

When it looks like the group below are breaking up, the children heading off with Lori and Carol towards the van behind the RV, Amanda jumps down.

"You're going to need me in the front with you," she says. "The turn-off for the house is kind of hard to miss."

Rick nods, and Glenn moves to the back of the RV to let Amanda sit up front.

"How are you feeling?"

Amanda starts, then turns. Dale smiles at her, that kindly smile that Amanda remembers seeing on her grandparents before they passed years ago.

"Sore." She glances at the side of the RV, looking for any dents she might have left when she collided with it. There's a dent, but it's hardly noticible, although she does notice a smear of dried blood that she isn't sure is hers. "Your RV packs a punch."

Dale, to his credit, laughs. "How was the ride with Daryl?"

Amanda blinks at the cautious tone his voice takes, and she watches him look around. "Very quiet," she says, then turns to climb into the RV's cab. She takes the map from Glenn and studies it, then sighs and sets it aside. She knows these roads, these highways. She grew up here.

She hears engines revving behind her, and she glances in the rear-view mirror. Rick pulls away from the side of the road, and she watches as the caravan follows, one vehicle at a time, until they're moving at a fairly good pace.

Evening is coming quickly, and she's a little worried they won't make it before nightfall, but she points at the exit at long last and Rick turns off the freeway. She points which way to turn, then tells him to slow once they're on a narrow two-lane road.

"Turn's up ahead. You're going to miss it if you don't slow down."

Rick slows carefully, then Amanda points to his left.

"There, see it? That dirt road."

"That takes us through the woods."

"Fifty feet," she scoffs, though she knows it's a gamble. She gets on the radio. "Roll your windows up, gang."

She follows her own advice, closing herself in and leaning forward in her seat. She's praying the gates are open, or at least unlocked, because she doesn't have her keys with her.

Rick makes the turn, and she unbuckles her seatbelt, ready to jump out as soon as he slows a little more, to open the gate.

"Amanda-"

"There! Stop the RV." She's out and running, and Glenn jumps into the seat she vacates and slams the door behind her. The gate is, fortunately, unlocked, although the chain has been wound through it several times. She struggles for a minute, finally untangling the mess and pushing the gates open.

She waves them all through, then closes the gate behind them.

"Who's there?"

The familiar voice calling down from the house sends a flood of relief through her, and she's running now, her boots digging into the soft ground and propelling her forward even faster.

"Daddy!" She's yelling now, flying past the vehicles and the people getting out of them. She narrowly avoids crashing into Glenn, but then she's beyond them all and flying towards the house, stumbling each time she hits a rock or a hole in the dirt, but she picks herself up and continues up the hill.

She can see him, barely, illuminated from behind by the glow of the fire from the house.

"Amanda?"

Then she's right in front of him, skidding to a stop and out of breath. She puts her hands on her knees, takes deep breaths.

"Amanda, what the hell is going on?" He peers behind her, looking for something. "Who are all these people? And where's your sister?"

"Daddy," she says, and she climbs the stairs, one at a time, comes to a stop next to him. "Angie didn't make it."

"What?"

"Angie's dead, Dad. For a month."

It takes him a minute to register this, but he turns to her finally. "And that lousy son-in-law of mine?"

"Dead. He, uh... The CDC blew up. He stayed behind."

Her father takes a deep breath, lets it out. She knows he doesn't show emotion, goes behind closed doors to cry and mourn, and she knows that's exactly what he'll do now.

"Daddy, could we talk for a minute, please?"

"More bad news?"

"No, I just... These people? They need a place to stay."

"Amanda-"

"No, listen. They'll pull their own weight. Help out. Please."

He sighs, nods, and wraps an arm around her shoulder. "Let me go make introductions and bring them in. You go find your mother and see about getting the beds set up."

Amanda grins, wraps her arms around him and kisses his cheek. "Thanks, Daddy."

Her mother is inside, sitting in a comfy-looking chair with a blanket over her legs. She smiles as Amanda enters, and as Amanda comes in she tosses the blanket aside and wraps Amanda in her arms.

"Hey, Mama."

Amanda's mother is short, with blonde curly hair and bright blue eyes. Amanda takes a step back to look at her, and is pleased to see that her mother looks clean. She looks down, comparing her rather dirty clothes with her mother's pristine ones, and blushes.

"How are you, dear? Come sit."

"Can't, Mama." She shakes her head. "We need to get all the beds and cots ready we can."

"Why, dear? What's going on?"

Amanda makes quick work of explaining, and her mother jumps into action. They spend the next few minutes pulling linens out of the closets, and setting them on beds. When the campers come in, dragging duffle bags and whatever they have left over after the CDC went nuclear, Amanda points them to rooms. She tries her best to keep families together, and brings in cots for the kids.

"The plumbing works, but it's all cold water," her mother explains when someone asks about a shower. "This house was built on a well system, and it hasn't failed us yet. But you can pump water in and heat it over the fire. Take a nice hot bath."

Amanda groans at the thought. Then another thought occurs to her, and she sighs, sits on the nearest couch and ignores her mother's dirty look. "Mama, do you have any of my clothes here? I, uh... Mine were lost in the fire at the CDC."

"What fire, hon?" Her mother turns and heads up to the attic, and Amanda grins. "There was a fire? Did your sister make it out okay?"

The attic is warm despite the cool chill in the night air, and Amanda can't breathe. She helps her mom dig through boxes, looks for her old clothes, and tries to come up with a suitable answer.

"Angie died, mom. A month ago. She was bit, she turned."

"Turned?" Her mother gives her an incredulous look. "You make it sound like she's a vampire now or something. It's silly."

Amanda blushes. "She didn't make it. Neither did Edwin."

Her mother sighs, and Amanda can see the tears falling. There's a lot of heartache in the house now, and Amanda is almost sorry she came home.

"We were worried about you. Both of you. The car won't start anymore. It's out of gas and we couldn't get anymore and get to you."

"Trust me, Mom, you're way safer here." Amanda holds up a box in success. "I think these'll work."

"But Amanda, your sister-"

"Gave her body to science before the end. She did what she wanted. You should be proud." Amanda can't hide the bitterness in her voice, but her mother doesn't seem to notice; or if she does, she doesn't care.

"I'm always proud of both of you." Her mother leads the way downstairs.

Amanda is alone again, but she enjoys hearing the bustling halls. The third floor is open, and she can hear people calling back and forth, looking for soap or anything that would be useful in taking a bath. Downstairs, she can see the first pots of water on the fire, and she sighs, sits on her box to think.

"Help you?"

Amanda looks up. Daryl is staring down at her, with what she thinks is an amused expression on his face.

"No, I just... I'm good." She offers a smile, a weak one, but a smile, and picks up her box. "Just thinking."

He shrugs, and she pauses, hefts the box to her hip. "You want me to have them bring some water up for you? The tubs are pretty nice."

There's a pause, and Amanda wonders if he's going to answer her. "Yeah, that's be good."

She nods, heads downstairs to ask the ladies to put on another pot of water for the tubs, and sets her box on the counter in the kitchen. She's trying to find an empty room to sleep in, since she's given her actual room to Carol and Sophia. Some of them had doubled up, since there were definitely more people than were rooms, and she didn't think that anyone had any extra room to spare.

Amanda resigns herself to sleeping in the attic.

"You alright?"

Amanda looks around, smiles at Andrea. "Yeah, I'm okay. Figuring out where to sleep tonight is all." She sighs, sinks into a chair at the dining table. "Can I ask you a favor?"

Andrea sits.

"I need someone to look at my back. I hit the RV pretty hard in the explosion, and I'm pretty sure I'm banged up."

"Sure, no problem. You want to do this now?"

"Yeah. Just in case there's any blood or anything, we can get it cleaned up and bandaged and I'll be on my way so you guys can sleep."

"Do you not sleep? I noticed you were awake this morning-"

"I fell asleep at the computer." Amanda digs through her box and comes up sucessfully with a new t-shirt. "I don't sleep normal hours. We were underground far too long for that." She sets the shirt aside and digs for some pants.

"What does being underground have to do with anything?"

"It's really complicated, but basically the sight of light outside, the sun rising and falling, keeps your body on a circadian rhythm of about 24 hours. Without it, our bodies lose track of time, forget to tell us we're tired. Some say that our bodies fall to a rhythm based on 25-hour days instead of 24, but I don't believe that."

Amanda gives up on her search for a pair of pants and turns to her. "Ready?"

Andrea nods and follows Amanda to the nearest bathroom. The door is open, so she slips inside, then thinks about it and digs around for a candle.

"Mom keeps candles everywhere with matches and lighters and everything. Power goes out a lot around here."

She comes up successful with a candle that smells suspiciously like fake strawberry, and lights it.

Andrea shuts the door and helps Amanda tug the jacket off her shoulders. Amanda examines it, trying to determine whether it's going to need any patching, or if she can get by on a jacket that has a few holes. She's grateful that it's a heavy-duty material, and she silently thanks the military for it.

Her shirt is next, and then her bra, and she turns her back to Andrea.

"How bad is it?"

"A couple of cuts and scrapes, but it looks like mostly brusing." She runs her hands over Amanda's ribs. "Hurt?"

"Not terribly."

"That's good, right?"

"Yeah. Means less potential for broken bones, which is always good."

Andrea looks her over, trying to see the bruising through the tattoos that decorate Amanda's back.

"You're pretty banged up, but you'll be okay in a few days."

Amanda nods, thanks her, and slides her bra back on, followed by the fresh t-shirt. It feels good against her skin, better than the cotton long sleeve she's been wearing for the past few days.

The house quiets down when everyone's asleep, and Amanda decides that she can't stand it. She heads up to the attic and opens a window, climbs out to the roof. Someone's there, standing at the edge of the house overlooking the huge back yard.

"Hey," she says, and he turns.

"Hey yourself."

Amanda approaches the edge of the roof and is careful not to look down. "I, uh, I didn't get a chance to thank you for pulling me out back at the CDC."

Daryl shrugs. "No problem."

"Can't sleep?"

"No. You?"

"Shouldn't be sleeping."

"'Cause of your head?"

She nods. "Yeah."

She is tired suddenly, so tired, and she sits at the edge of the roof, hoping the shingles don't decide at that moment that they no longer enjoy being tarred to the roof.

"Why can't you sleep?"

Daryl shrugs, sits next to her but not too close. "Just can't is all."

The night air is cool against her skin, and she shivers. Below, she can hear the crickets chirping in the grass, but all too soon that stops, too, leaving her in uncomfortable silence with Daryl.

After a while, he gets up and goes inside without a word, and Amanda waits for the sun to rise before she heads inside and down to the kitchen to dig up some food.

* * *

><p><strong>Review comments from chapter 1:<strong>

**Fioras **- thanks!

**ErisandDysomia** - I know. I was bothered by a couple of things in that episode; one was that Jenner was spouting off anatomy that he didn't know (the adrenal glands in particular), and the second was that exit scene. The frag grenade, the firing of the shotgun inside without ear protection and no one even says "ow"... I used a bit of artistic license and had Amanda type in a second code to override the computers. I only wish it were really that simple. lol

**constantlylost ** - I'm glad you like my character's name! :)

**TayaHearts ** - The writing style I'm using is new for me. It's not my normal one. Thanks for sticking around even though you don't like reading present tense. :)

**Question for my readers:**

Would it be easier for me to refer to Amanda as "Mandy" or something similar in the future? I know some people have difficulty with names that start with the same letter.

And if you're reading for the Daryl interaction, don't worry, it's coming. Next chapter or two, I promise.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Middle of Nowhere**  
>Author:<strong> PlasticCandy**  
>Fandom:<strong> The Walking Dead**  
>Rating: <strong>Mature readers**  
>Warnings:<strong> violence, language, possible sexual situations**  
>Summary:<strong> The team reaches the CDC, but things never go as planned, do they? Another straggler joins the team.**  
>Notes:<strong> Not quite as long of a chapter this time, but it's mostly set-up for the next chapter... More Daryl interaction coming your way!**  
>Disclaimer:<strong> The Walking Dead and its characters don't belong to me. They belong to their rightful owners

* * *

><p><strong>Installment 3<strong> - In which they go to town, and Amanda meets Merle

Amanda is cranky when she doesn't sleep.

It's still early morning; enough so that Amanda feels like she should be crawling into bed, if she had a bed to crawl into. She finishes her breakfast as the first few people come down the stairs, still sleepy-eyed and yawning. She nods to them, gives her best attempt at a smile, and leaves the kitchen before the voices get too loud and she gets snippy.

Upstairs, in a room that usually passes for a library but is now where Andrea sleeps, Amanda selects a book from the many shelves and heads outside. In a shed out back there's a tackle box, some fishing poles, a cooler, and a chair. She grabs them, shoves the book in her back pocket as best she can, and heads down to the lake to fish.

It's quiet here, just the sounds of the bugs and the occasional splash of the fish. She sets up her chair on the short dock and leans down to select her bait from the box. Once she's got the line cast, she leans back in the chair, sucks in a deep breath when the pain from the bruises on her back registers. It takes a moment or two, but she adjusts, settles back and opens her book.

She almost doesn't notice when there's a tug on her line, and she looks up just in time to grab the pole and start reeling in the fish.

She tosses it in the cooler, adds some water to it to keep the fish from drowning, and closes the lid again. Sets the bait, tosses the line over the water again, and goes back to her book.

She repeats this process several times throughout the course of the morning, and she's got a nice collection of fish in the cooler before she packs up the tackle and heads back to the house. She has to stop and adjust everything a few times, switches hands with the cooler, figures out the easiest way to carry the pole.

When she gets there, she hands the cooler to her mother, who squeals when she opens the lid and the fish stare back at her.

Amanda hears the shouts and laughter from upstairs, and smiles. She feels less irritable now, although she still hasn't slept. She spies her box of clothes in the corner of the kitchen, goes through it again and finds a pair of long shorts that will work for today.

She starts a few pots of water on to boil and claims a bathroom on the first floor as hers for the afternoon.

It seems to take forever, but the water finally heats enough that she can dump it in the tub, and strips down and slides in, sighing and relaxing as best she can against the back of the tub.

She falls asleep, chest deep in warm water.

When she wakes, the water is tepid, and all her joints feel stiff. She washes quickly, wishes for soap for her hair, and steps out, dresses quickly.

Outside, she can hear the shouts of the kids, probably playing in the yard. She finds Rick in the kitchen, looking out the window and seeming genuinely worried.

"What's up?"

"We need to make a supply run to town. Your father's going with us."

Amanda takes this in, then shakes her head. "No, he's not."

"We don't know the way-"

"He's not going. I'll go. I know the way just as well as he does."

Rick sighs.

"How many are going?"

"Me. Glenn. A couple others."

Amanda thinks for a minute. "I really don't think any more than three should go. You should stay-you have your family to think about." She looks out the window, watches Carl and Sophia chase each other around the yard. "I can take Glenn, maybe one other person. Any more and it might slow us down."

Rick nods. "Let me talk to everyone, see what they think."

"My dad isn't going, Rick. That's not up for debate."

He nods again, leaves the room.

Amanda continues watching the kids play in the sun. She can see, far down at the lake, some of the women doing laundry. There's a game of catch going on near the side of the house, and it looks more like monkey-in-the-middle to her.

"You can take Glenn and Daryl. Shane and I agreed that any more would be a risk, and Lori's dead set against me going."

"Got a list of what you need? And we'll need some bags to carry them." Amanda wanders off, in search of some bags, while Rick gets Lori to sit down and scribble out a list for them.

Amanda is running on pure adrenaline. She can feel it pumping in her veins, keeping her awake. She knows she's on the verge of collapse, but she wants to keep going, pushing herself until she finally gives in.

Sleep will feel good then.

When she has the list, mostly food stuffs, in her pocket, and she's ready to go with her boots on her feet and a couple of side-arms and her knife strapped to her, she meets Daryl and Glenn at the gate.

"Let's go."

There's hardly any talk on the way. The woods are thick, and even traveling down the driveway is a hazard when it's surrounded by trees. Amanda is careful, watchful, her senses on high alert.

The sounds in the woods are distracting; she can hear the birds chirping, crickets and other insects. Then Glenn starts talking.

His voice is soft so it doesn't carry, but it makes it more difficult for her to hear what's going on around her; makes it more difficult for her to be aware when every part of her wants to not be rude and listen to Glenn's babble about some red Dodge Challenger that he lost before the CDC.

Then Daryl starts in, racial slurs start flying, and Amanda is finding it even harder to drown them out. Then a branch snaps in the woods, and it attracts all her attention.

A dry branch snapping in the woods is loud like a gunshot. The birds fly off, and her head swivels, back and forth, left and right, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound. She encourages them to move faster, not wanting to be surrounded.

It seems like forever, but they finally reach the town. Amanda is saddened by the grocery, with its shelves still mostly stocked. She knows what this means, and it makes her heart a little heavier.

They separate, Amanda taking a bag and handing one to Glenn, and they fill the bags with what's on the list while Daryl and his crossbow stand guard. Amanda, in her sleepless delirium, wonders if Daryl named his crossbow, and she bites her lips to keep from giggling.

The sun is starting to tilt towards going down when they set off again. There are a few walkers in town, but nothing they can't take down silently, thanks to Daryl's crossbow. Amanda makes a note to see about getting her hands on one in the near future.

It is when they are nearly home, and the sun is starting to really set, that they run into a problem.

Amanda thinks they missed it before, but there's a truck there, on the side of the road, turned on its side with the back swung open. Amanda starts to walk around it, but Daryl halts them both, and when Amanda turns to look at them, she sees Glenn's face is just as white as Daryl's.

She frowns, moves towards the truck again. Ignores Glenn's quiet whispers and peers through the windshield. She shakes her head.

Nothing there.

Glenn is watching Daryl approach the back of the truck. Amanda starts down it, trying to get a visual on Daryl so he can't sneak up on her, when she reaches the back and sees he's got his crossbow trained on something.

Amanda feels like the world slows down, just for a few seconds, then she has an arm around her throat, and she hears the grunting and thick, mucus-y noise of a Walker and she starts screaming.

"Daryl! Shoot this motherfucker!" She can smell the fetid breath, or maybe that's rotting flesh. "Daryl!"

He's frozen; she watches, and her screams turn to quiet sobs, then to nothing. She stares at him, tries to get him to meet her eyes because damnit, if she's going, he's going to feel guilty about it.

She closes her eyes.

Hears the sharp clack of the crossbow releasing, then the sickening wet thunk as a bolt meets with the Walker's face behind her.

Amanda staggers away, hears the body thump to the ground. She turns, looks at it.

Stumbles backwards and falls on her ass.

He's big-bigger than Daryl, even, and Amanda hadn't been sure that was possible. He's missing a hand, and she can see the flesh is burned.

She takes a deep breath. Takes another.

Takes off her jacket to make sure she isn't injured.

Then turns to stare at Daryl, who can't take his eyes off the body.

She turns to Glenn, but he shakes his head at her, and she doesn't even know what that means. Doesn't know what he's trying to tell her.

"Daryl-"

"What."

"Daryl."

"What?" He tears his eyes away, but Amanda can see his attention is still on that damn body.

"We have to go, Daryl." She's tugging her jacket back on, picking up her bag of dropped groceries. She is shaking, and she can't hide it.

Glenn is already headed towards the turn into the driveway to Amanda's house.

She tugs on Daryl's arm, finally gets his full attention.

"Come on."

He walks backward half the way to the driveway, then turns. Keeps his head bowed.

"Who was it?"

Amanda isn't stupid. She can be angry at Daryl for letting her be almost-eaten later.

"My brother."

Amanda sighs. "I'm sorry."

Daryl shrugs, looks around at the trees, ahead at the road, behind them, anywhere but at her. He avoids looking at her the whole way, and when they get back he and his crossbow disappear.

Amanda heads into the kitchen where she finds Glenn already unpacking his bag.

She joins him, stacks everything on the counter as fast as she can. Lori and Carol are stocking shelves in the pantry just as fast as Amanda tosses things on the counter.

In the front room, she can hear the crackle of the fire and loud voices arguing over who makes better fish fry. She smiles to herself, kisses her mama on the cheek when she comes in.

"Amazing. You brought back more than I hoped."

Amanda smiles, a little bashful now. "I'm going to take a chair down to the dock."

"Dinner's almost done-"

"I know, Mama, but I can't stand to eat right now."

Her mother sighs, nods. Hands Amanda a bag of dried bread crusts.

On the dock, Amanda watches the sun go down. The fish splash in the water as they swim near the surface.

Footsteps behind her.

"You okay?"

Amanda looks up. "Yeah."

Daryl sits on the end of the dock. He still can't look at her, but he's talking to her, and she thinks that's something.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

><p><strong>Review comments from chapter 2:<strong>

**ErisandDysnomia:** I vaguely figured something was wrong with the whole adrenal gland thing, but it's been a few years since I was in my Biological Bases of Behavior class ('k, so I was a psych major lol), and I had to use wikipedia. Also, I totally bought the Walking Dead on DVD for Norman Reedus... It would still be sitting on the shelf at Target otherwise. lol

**constantlylost:** Thanks for answering my question. :) And we all know Daryl can't follow rules, right?

I've been thinking about it more and more, and I'm probably going to end up doing some kind of character analysis on some of the people in Walking Dead. Put my degree to some kind of good use. If you're all interested, I can let you know when they're done and where to find them...


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Middle of Nowhere**  
>Author:<strong> PlasticCandy**  
>Warnings:<strong> violence, language, possible sexual situations**  
>Summary:<strong> The team reaches the CDC, but things never go as planned, do they? Another straggler joins the team.**  
>Disclaimer:<strong> The Walking Dead and its characters don't belong to me. They belong to their rightful owners.

**Notes: **Okay, so the truth is, there's going to be a few fluff chapters before we really get down into a few more issues and we see the backlash from the issue with Merle. I just finished writing chapter 6, so I'm a little ahead of schedule here. Also, if anyone gets the Vera joke, you're awesome. Let me know in a review!

* * *

><p><strong>Installment 4<strong> - In which Amanda and Daryl have a heart to heart, or not

"I'm sorry."

He says it so quiet Amanda doesn't know if she hears right, but he repeats it.

"I'm sorry."

Amanda doesn't say anything at first.

Then she tosses the bag of bread crumbs at his back and joins him on the end of the dock, lets her feet dangle over the side.

"Want to feed the fish?"

She opens the bag, pulls out a piece of bread crust and breaks it into pieces, then tosses them, one by one, into the water.

The fish come to the surface and grab at the pieces. They are greedy, hungry for nourishment.

After a minute, Daryl joins her, but the pieces he toss are too big.

"No, look. You have to break them up, see?" she shows him her pieces. "Their mouths are only so big."

He follows her advice, and they spend a while feeding the fish in silence.

"Are you okay?"

Daryl nods. "Yeah. I'm good."

"What was his name?"

"Merle."

Amanda nods. "Tell me about him?"

Daryl crushes up another piece of bread and tosses it in the water. Then another. Amanda isn't sure he's going to answer her.

"He was an asshole. Real mean bastard." Crushes more bread. "But he was my brother. All I had."

Daryl tosses the bread into the water with a little more force than is necessary, but the fish swarm after it, their mouths opening and closing on nothing but air when its gone.

He rests his hands on the dock beside him. "He practically raised me when Daddy left and Ma started drinking."

Amanda doesn't say anything. Waits for him to be done.

There are footsteps on the dock behind her, and she turns to find her mother with two plates full of fish, rice, and some kind of vegetable from a can.

"Enjoy, you two."

Her mother kisses her forehead and leaves again.

Amanda shoves a piece of fish in her mouth.

"My mother is awesome," she says around the fish.

Daryl picks at his food for a minute, then shoves a piece of fish in his mouth.

"This is really good."

"I know, right? I feel like I haven't eaten in forever."

For the most part, they are quiet while they eat. Amanda plays with her food, trying to come up with an amazing combination of flavors. She finally gets it, and breaks a piece of fish off and tops it with a green bean and a carrot.

"Try this."

She sets her plate aside and holds out the bite.

"What?"

"Try. This." She holds it closer to him, waits as he leans over and takes the bite from her hand with his mouth. Hears herself inhale sharply.

He chews without noticing, and she flushes and looks down, starts stuffing food in her face again.

When their plates are empty, they sit together in silence. The moonlight dances on the water, and Amanda feels the chill in the night start to creep up her jacket. She shivers.

"Cold?"

"A little." She wraps her jacket closer to her. "Hey Daryl?"

"Hmm?"

She looks at him, and is suddenly distracted by the fact that he's removing his shoes and socks. He looks at her expectantly.

"Um, did you name your crossbow?"

He scrunches his face up. "Come again?"

"Did you name your crossbow?"

He cocks his head to the side. She laughs, nudges his shoulder. "Nevermind."

"What, exactly, are you talking about? What would I name my crossbow, anyway?"

"Vera."

It's a joke Amanda gets and Daryl obviously doesn't, because he raises an eyebrow and goes back to staring at the water.

"Oh, come on. I had to ask. Boys and their toys. Some guys name their penises."

He turns back to her, eyes wide. "You'd know that how?"

She grins. "I'm not as innocent as I look, Daryl. I've had my share of guys."

"That makes you sound like a slut."

"Okay, so it was two guys and one of them happened to name his... _thing_ something absolutely ridiculous."

"Do girls name their... you know?"

Amanda blinks. "I don't think so." She shrugs. "I don't think women are proud like men are of their... Anatomy."

"Why are we talking about this?"

Amanda shrugs, looks at the lake. "Because I'm delirious. I haven't slept in over a day. Almost two."

She smiles again. "Besides, I think I'm embarrassing you and I like it."

He scoffs. "Embarrass me."

Amanda considers taking the challenge, but instead she lays back, tucks her arms under her head. Her belly is full and she is sleepy. The water lapping against the dock is lulling her to sleep.

She doesn't feel when Daryl picks her up and carries her to the house, or when he sets her on his bed to sleep. Her hand grips his when he turns to leave, and he sighs, slides under the covers with her. She curls against him, inhales deeply, and sleeps.

Amanda sleeps as long as she can, wrapped against Daryl's body. The sunlight streams through the windows and over the foot of the bed, but her face is mercifully shielded by heavy curtains.

She wakes when she hears giggling at her door, and she turns over, slowly so she doesn't wake the slumbering beast beside her, and glares at Glenn, whose head is peaking in the door, along with Andrea.

"Shh," she whispers, and closes her eyes again. More giggling. Amanda rolls her eyes and rolls over again, only to find herself staring into Daryl's blue eyes.

"Hi."

"Hi."

More giggling. Amanda finally turns, tries to climb out of bed. She struggles with the blankets for a minute, then stands, searches for her boots.

"Can't you guys be quiet?" She puts one hand on her hip and waggles her finger at the two in the doorway. "Some people are trying to sleep."

"Some people are still trying to sleep."

Amanda shushes Daryl. "Out, you two. Let us sleep."

There's a chorus of "ooh"s that makes Amanda roll her eyes, but she ushers them out and closes and locks the door behind them.

"Locking me in?"

Amanda climbs back in bed and curls against him. "Maybe."

Her eyes close.

She feels his hands against her back, rubbing little circles that she almost finds comforting.

Until he hits the bruises on her back, and she winces and sucks in a breath.

"Still hurts?"

She nods.

"How bad is it?"

"Pretty bad." She opens her eyes again. "I'll live."

"I hope so." He pushes her hip so she's lying on her back. "Turn over and let me see."

She obeys, turns over and faces the room. She feels him pull her shirt up.

"Jesus, Mandy."

Amanda scowls. "I really hate being called that."

"Too bad, Mandy."

Amanda rolls her eyes and tugs her shirt down. Rolls back over to face him.

"Well, doctor, will I live?"

"I think you will, Mandy. I think you will."

Amanda tries to be mad at him and finds she can't.

Outside the door there's more giggling. The doorknob turns a little, then stops.

"Oh, come on you guys! You better not be doing anything in there!" Glenn's voice comes through muffled, but Amanda laughs.

In response, Daryl starts rocking the bed back and forth. The headboard clanging against the wall is loud and gives her a headache almost immediately, but she can't help but laugh at the low, disappointed moan she hears through the door.

"You're purely evil," she says to Daryl when he settles against her again.

"I know." His arm falls over her again, and she snuggles into the blankets.

"Can we stay here forever?" Her question is punctuated by a yawn.

"If you want."

Amanda doesn't know what to say to this, so she nods, more to herself than to him, and falls asleep leaning against his chest.

* * *

><p><strong>Review comments from chapter 3:<strong>

**ErisandDysnomia: **Yesssss, Merle dead. It's the one loose end that I was worried about tying up. It's really important for Daryl's character. You'll see.

**Lucy Freebird:** Thanks for stopping by!


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Middle of Nowhere**  
>Author:<strong> PlasticCandy**  
>Warnings:<strong> violence, language, possible sexual situations**  
>Summary:<strong> The team reaches the CDC, but things never go as planned, do they? Another straggler joins the team.**  
>Disclaimer:<strong> The Walking Dead and its characters don't belong to me. They belong to their rightful owners.**  
>Notes: <strong>This is probably the last fluff chapter for a while. Shit gets real in chapter 6. I almost had the fluff going to chapter 7, but I changed my mind - I was having too much fun writing it, and it wasn't going where I needed it to go. So I'm back to writing chapter 6... again. I'm trying to upload a chapter every Tuesday and Wednesday, so it's very possible that chapter 6 will be online tomorrow. *sigh* Anyway, enjoy chapter 5!

Oh, and before I forget - the Orpheus and Eurydice story that Amanda tells is a blending of two different versions. I'll probably include more Greek mythology stories as the story progresses. - Also also, ErisandDysnomia mentioned in her story, Landing Feet First, that Lady Gaga's video "Judas" has Norman Reedus in it. It's amazing and hilarious in a way only Gaga can be. Go watch

* * *

><p><strong>Installment 5<strong> - In which Daryl goes hunting and Amanda tells a bedtime story

"Forever" turns out to be just a couple of hours. Amanda wakes to find Daryl gone, and the sun has started tilting towards the other side of the house.

She gets up, wanders downstairs.

Stops when she hits a wall of "ooh"s coming from the kitchen.

"Shut up," she grumbles.

Andrea giggles, and Lori and Carol exchange knowing glances.

Amanda tries her best to ignore them, but when Lori starts giggling and then Carol's smile starts widening, she slams her hand on the counter.

"Oh, come on! We didn't do anything!"

There's more giggling, and Amanda huffs and rolls her eyes like a five-year-old. Encourages the incessant giggling from the three women. She sighs, shakes her head.

"You three are pathetic." Amanda leans against the counter. "Come on. Get it out. Giggle and laugh and whatever else so I can move on with my day."

She's feeling more embarrassed now than anything. She can feel her face flushing red.

"So, really." Andrea is trying to hold in her laughter, but Amanda can see she's dying to giggle some more. "Did you?"

"No!" Amanda throws her hands up. "I don't even remember going to bed. Last thing I remember, we were out on the dock, talking."

"Not even a kiss?"

Amanda cocks her head. "Not even. You three are like a bunch of horny school girls."

There's more rauctious laughter, and Amanda finally cracks a smile.

"So?"

She sighs, turns to Lori. "So, what?"

"So, you're not going to tell us what you talked about?"

"No. Private conversations are best kept private, although I will say that I found out that Daryl did _not_ name his crossbow, which is a relief to me, because at least he's not _crazy_."

There's more giggling, and Amanda finds herself joining in. Outside, the kids are yelling, and Amanda pauses to check on them.

Somewhere, someone's found some water balloons, leftovers from a long-ago birthday party, Amanda thinks. The kids are having fun chucking them at each other.

"So where is everyone?"

"Well, your mom's gathering the linens, and the men are off doing some kind of manly man thing." Andrea rolls her eyes. "Laundry's almost done."

"Awesome. Just in time to do mine."

"You can wash those bed sheets you were sleeping on. I don't think anyone wants to touch them."

There's more laughter, and Amanda rolls her eyes and goes upstairs to gather the linens from Daryl and Glenn's room.

She's watching the blankets as they blow in the breeze when the men folk come up the hill. They pass the sheets, and Glenn takes the time to play with them, bat them out of the air and pretend like he's being sucked in. They give her the creeps, the sheets hanging on the clothes lines like that; reminds her of that movie with that clown and the giant spider at the end.

The women have relocated to the front room to reheat left-overs.

"Hey, baby girl."

"Hey, Daddy."

Her father joins her at the window.

"You know what those remind me of?"

"That movie with the clown. I know, Daddy. Don't remind me. Gave me the creeps."

Her father laughs, kisses her on the head. "I know. But it's always fun to tease you."

Amanda can see his reflection in the window; sees his face take on that serious look that he had when Angie said she was marrying Edwin and when Amanda said she was joining the Army.

"I heard you slept in the same bed with that fella Daryl."

Amanda groans, puts her hand over her eyes. "Not you, too, Daddy."

"What do you mean? You two aren't-?"

"No, Dad. We slept. That's it. I promise."

He smiles, puts an arm around her shoulders. "I just worry about you. Sometimes I forget you're not my little girl anymore."

"Come on, Dad. You can't possibly forget that I can so kick your butt now."

He laughs, squeezes her shoulder befor releasing her. "Just want to make sure he's going to take care of my little girl, or if I have to get the trusty double-barrel."

Amanda cringes. "No, Daddy, I promise I can take care of myself."

"I love you, baby girl."

"Love you, too, Daddy."

They all eat together, around the fireplace in the front room, swapping stories and making fun of each other. They slowly trickle away, going off to bed, until it's only Amanda left.

Amanda has a stack of books sitting on the floor by one of the big comfy chairs by the fire. Her feet are propped on the ottoman, and every now and then she shifts the logs in the fireplace, or adds another to keep the fire going.

"Amanda?"

Amanda nearly jumps out of her skin. She turns to the doorway to find Sophia there.

"What's up, kiddo?"

"Can't sleep."

Amanda pats the blanket beside her, and Sophia climbs into Amanda's lap.

"Your mom asleep?"

Sophia nods.

"Alright then, let's see. How long's it been since you had a bedtime story?"

Sophia shrugs.

"That long, huh? Okay, so..." Amanda thinks for a minute. "Alright, how about this. I tell you one bedtime story, and you have to go to bed. 'K?"

Sophia nods her agreement, and Amanda stares into the fire, trying to decide on a story.

"How about Orpheus and Eurydice. Have you heard it?"

Sophia shakes her head.

"Alright, then, it's decided. Ready?"

Sophia nods.

"Orpheus was a great musician in ancient Greek times. His music was loved by many; even the gods. He lived wildly, carelessly, until he met Eurydice. Eurydice was a beautiful maiden, but she was promised to another, and she fled from Orpheus's advances.

"She was so intent on fleeing that she ran near a snake and it bit her. In Greek mythology, when you die, you go to the Underworld. And so that's where Eurydice went-to the Underworld, ruled by the Lord Hades and his wife, Persephone.

"Orpheus was beside himself with grief. His music became sad, filled with great sorrow and pain. The gods listening were moved to tears, and finally they could take no more. They invited Orpheus to go to the Underworld to bargain with Hades and Persephone to see if he could bring back Eurydice's soul.

"So Orpheus set off, and before long he found himself before Hades's throne. Orpheus plays his lyre for Hades and Persephone, and finally Hades agrees to let Orpheus take Eurydice's soul with him to the above world, but on one condition. Eurydice's soul must walk behind Orpheus, and Orpheus was not allowed to turn around for any reason.

"Orpheus was overjoyed. Finally, he could be with his beloved Eurydice! So he began the ascent to the world of the living. Several times, he almost stopped and turned around. But he remembered Hades's words, and kept going. Every now and then he would stop and listen for Eurydice's footsteps, but spirits make no sounds.

"Orpheus began to doubt Hades. When he stepped through the doorway and was once again in the sunlight, he turned around, but he was too soon. Eurydice was right behind him, but as he watched, her spirit faded away.

"Orpheus was once again beside himself with grief. What happened to him next, no one knows. Some say that Orpheus died of a broken heart, playing his sad music until the end. Some say that Zeus himself killed Orpheus. But either way, the Muses kept Orpheus's head, so that his beautiful singing would live on."

Amanda looks down to find Sophia asleep. She sighs, stands and carries Sophia to the couch and covers her with a blanket.

The fire is warm, and Amanda pokes the logs to keep it going.

She doesn't remember falling asleep, but she does, curled under her blanket, a book open on her lap.

The morning dawns hot and thick with humidity. Amanda wakes as the first rays of sunlight pour in through the windows. Shane is coming in from his nightly watch, and she nods good morning to him as she stands and stretches.

"Anything?"

"Nothing. It's oddly quiet here."

"Don't jinx us."

Shane gives the tiniest hint of a smile and heads upstairs to bed.

Amanda goes to work opening the windows in the house, trying to get a breeze flowing, because if it's this hot inside, it's probably more so outside, but at least there's a breeze out there.

There's not much for her to do now, except possibly start breakfast.

Amanda rummages through the pantry for anything that might work and comes up with a few things that might suffice. Included in her armful of breakfast goods is a box of insta-grits, something she isn't too keen on, but she knows it's a staple in most Southerners' diets.

It doesn't take her long to have a spread going, and people are trickling down the stairs in ones and twos. Amanda eats with them, curled up on her comfy chair, then waits as they all disperse.

The bedding on the clothes lines has to be broght in, and she needs to start on her own laundry. There are baskets in the laundry room, and she grabs them and heads outside.

The sun warms her as she takes down the sheets. When the lines are empty, she heads inside, puts the linens on the beds in Daryl and Glenn's room, and heads back outside to start her laundry.

She settles on the front porch, enjoying the shade and the soothing sounds of the cicadas in the trees just over the wall.

Then she hears the worst possible sound in the world-the gate rattling. She looks up.

Then she's rushing to the gate, running as hard as she can to unwrap the chain from the iron bars.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Her fingers fumble with the chain for a minute, then she's tugging it free and yanking one side open. Daryl picks up his catch and heads up to the house.

"What the hell's it look like?"

"Hey, Mr. Pissy. Go put the damn deer down and get clean." Amanda closes the gate and re-chains it. "Want some help?"

"I got it."

As he walks in front of her, Amanda admires the deer. She tries to avoid looking at its lifeless eyes, but she counts the points.

"You brought down a nine-point buck?" It occurs to her that the deer might be heavier than he looks. "You sure you don't want help?"

"I got it."

Amanda sighs, follows him up to the house.

"Hey, guys, Daryl brought a deer."

There's a mad rush to the door, and Amanda is shoved out of the way. She is amused by the exclamations over the deer. A few people congratulate Daryl, who shrugs it off like it's no big deal.

"Let's see about getting this deer clean, yeah?" Her dad is suddenly in the doorway, all business, and Amanda moves out of the way as quick as she can. "Let's take it down to the lake. That way we don't make such a mess."

There's a great show of parading the deer down to the lake. When they are gone with the deer, the women head back inside to do whatever it is they do during the day.

Daryl sits down on a step. Amanda joins him a minute later, and she goes back to her laundry.

"Very nice." She scrubs at a shirt for a minute. "You hungry?"

"Could eat."

Amanda goes back in to put some left-over breakfast on a plate for him.

"It's kinda cold," she apologizes. "But it's still good."

He eats without tasting it. Amanda watches him from the corner of her eye as she scrubs her last pair of jeans. She sighs, holds them up.

"I think I'm going to give up on doing laundry and run around naked."

He chokes a little, coughs, and she laughs. "I'm just kidding."

"How was hunting?"

He shrugs again. "Quiet."

"Any walkers?"

"Couple."

Amanda finishes her laundry and hangs the last shirt on a porch railing to dry.

"You look tired." She moves the bucket of now dirty laundry water.

"I am."

She smiles. "Go to bed then. No, wait." She shakes her head. "You're fucking filthy, and I just washed your sheets. You're taking a bath first."

He laughs a little and follows her inside.

While Amanda sets about putting water on to boil for his bath, Daryl relaxes in her comfy chair and almost falls asleep. She feels a little bad about waking him up, but when his bath is ready, warm to relax him and get him as clean as possible with what limited amount of soap they have, she shakes him awake and guides him to the bathroom.

"Bath, then bed. I don't want to see you until tomorrow morning."

He laughs again, shuts the door in her face.

Behind her, there's a giggle.

"Shut up, Glenn." Amanda turns, finds the little Asian leaning against the wall outside his room.

"What?" He holds his hands up, feigning innocence. "I didn't do anything."

Amanda eyes him, then heads back downstairs to reclaim her comfy chair. She can smell him still, that sharp scent of sweat coupled with the smell of the outdoors, and it's a comfort to her somehow.

She sighs, curls up for a nap.

* * *

><p><strong>Review notes:<strong>

**Lucy Freebird**, **ErisandDysnomia**, **tayahearts**, **viktorskrumpet**: Thanks!

**Spanishlover91**: Reedus was one of the reasons I picked up Walking Dead, but truthfully, zombies are my monster of choice, so I probably would have picked it up regardless. Reedus just made me pick it up that much faster. lol

**DarknessRunsCold**: I'm so glad someone got that reference. I was beginning to worry that I was alone in that one. Oh, fandom references...


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